small worlds
make my world small.
with hidden things and corners and tiny spaces,
closet rooms and corridors.
give me nothing to feast on everything.
take my quiet moments and make them resound,
with peaceful noise that fills the silences;
windowsills that look out to our vacuum;
finite ceiling heights and a floor of grass;
and a bed of flowers to sink my teeth into,
night after night.
a reality made of daisy chains
where every moment is the next to last.
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